


First Night

by trufflemores_Glee_fic



Category: Glee
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 00:15:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11429199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trufflemores_Glee_fic/pseuds/trufflemores_Glee_fic
Summary: Blaine's first night in New York isn't as peaceful as he'd hoped.





	First Night

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everybody! After receiving multiple requests to repost my old Glee fics, I have created a second AO3 account to do so. I hope you can forgive me for flooding the Glee pages over the next few days. 
> 
> I also ask for kindness regarding the quality of these fics. Over on my main AO3 account (trufflemores), I have written over 150 Flash fics; end result, my current work is of a higher quality than these older pieces. But I know how beloved old fics can be, and I respect that something I consider sub-par can be someone else's favorite. 
> 
> So I hope you enjoy this fic and any others you choose to read. If you choose to do so, I would also be happy to have you on board 'The Flash' bandwagon as well.
> 
> Kick back, relax, and enjoy. You have been one of the greatest audiences I have ever had.
> 
> Affectionately yours,  
> trufflemores

"Baby?"

Blaine almost fell off the arm of the couch in surprise, whirling around to face Kurt with a fry pan in hand.  "Wha- Geez.  Kurt.  Hi.  It's you." Reaching up to rub the back of his neck nervously, he said, "What, um.  What are you doing up?"

"I could ask you the same," Kurt said, eyeing the frying pan as he stepped further into the living room.  Blaine shrank back on himself a little at being caught; in his red shorts and white t-shirt, he felt even more humble than usual compared to Kurt's effortless, if somewhat sleep-disheveled grace.  "So what is with the frying pan?" Kurt asked, folding himself neatly on top of the cushioned chair and looking up at Blaine.

Blaine's ears turned red as he struggled to put his thoughts into words, gesticulating with the fry pan itself absentmindedly.  "Just, um.  You know.  Practicing.  For a role.  It's for a role," he added importantly, very conscious of the overly sympathetic nod Kurt was giving him.

"Does your role require being up at two in the morning?" Kurt asked, patient and wry, and Blaine's heart melted a little in spite of himself as he shook his head.

"Just - getting an early start.  That's all."  Hesitantly setting the frying pan aside - and not entirely convinced that those weirdly loud grating sounds hadn't been some horrible, horrible murderer just outside their door - he cleared his throat.  "Is it really two in the morning?"

"Come on, honey," Kurt said, getting to his feet and reaching out to pull Blaine to his.  He let Kurt tug him along, wary about reentering their bedroom without finding the actual source of the noise (and refusing to believe that it was just the pipes, as Kurt had sleepily claimed an hour ago) but trusting Kurt to keep them safe.  Kurt always kept them safe.  He'd promised to do so.

Rumpled and wearing one of his old gray Hummel Tires and Lube hoodies and a matching pair of sweat pants, Kurt pulled him along until they were both sitting on the bed.  "It's okay to be scared," he said, and unlike when Blaine was alone in the silence and darkness with his thoughts, it didn't feel silly or childish or so very small but real and manageable and okay with Kurt there.  "I was scared, too.  You'll get used to it."

Blaine didn't say anything, relaxing by increments as Kurt rubbed a hand up and down his arm slowly, waiting.  "I'm sorry for waking you up," he said at last, sheepish and low-voiced, apologetic.

"Come here," Kurt replied, shuffling around the bed until he was lying down on his side once more, arms opened toward Blaine invitingly.

Even as he scooted close and let out a slow breath of contentment when Kurt wrapped his arms around him, Blaine couldn't help but ask, "I thought bedtime cuddles were off-limits."

"One, cuddles are never off-limits," Kurt responded, tucking his cheek against the top of his head.  "Two, don't be sorry.  And three--" he kissed the top of his head, "go to sleep."

Blaine shuffled closer, resting his cheek against Kurt's shoulder and letting the lulling rise and fall of his chest chase away the phantom fear that something was lurking around the loft.  Even if there was - and there might have been; Blaine still didn't know, and that had been the most terrifying thing, alone in the dark with nothing but the worry to keep him company - he had Kurt now.  And Kurt wanted him close, even though Kurt and he had their own sides of the bed and Kurt liked his space and Blaine tried to respect his boundaries.  

Kurt's hand rubbing slow, shapeless patterns against his back drew the fear from him.  Tucked in the warm cocoon of sheets, still aware but only faintly of the city beyond with Kurt's breathing so steady and near, Blaine relaxed for the first time in hours and drifted off into a thoroughly welcome sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> P.S. Please let me know if there are any weird coding errors in the fic! I did my best to weed them out before publication, but some will inevitably slip through the cracks.


End file.
